


Mr. and Mrs. Smith

by queer_killjoy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queer_killjoy/pseuds/queer_killjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Simply put, we need you to pretend to be dating."</p><p>"What."</p><p>"It's for the greater good of our mission."</p><p>"What."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. and Mrs. Smith

**Author's Note:**

> To the one commenter who wanted me to write fresher tropes: I'm so sorry

Symmetra drummed her fingers on the table, cautiously glancing back and forth between Mercy standing before her and the soot-covered maniac sitting next to her. She had a very long list of things to be doing today, and sitting with Junkrat in a cramped office room for ten minutes was definitely not a part of it. 

Junkrat sneezed.

She sighed and shot him a disdainful sideways look. If there was ever a definition of disorder, he was probably it. The man looked ridiculous, trying to fit all six feet and five inches of wiry muscle into a tiny chair. What did people see in him, anyhow? He was a mess. Ridiculously pointy hair, scrawny frame, shark-tooth grin, total mess. Keen gold eyes, well-toned muscles, strong broad hands...total mess. Besides, he was a liability. The idiot was wanted in fifteen countries--and counting. That wasn't something Symmetra wanted to get involved with. At all. She looked over at Mercy, clearing her throat, hoping for a distraction.

"So, are we sentenced to sit here for the duration of today, or was there a purpose in being called?" She remarked caustically. 

"I'm glad you asked," the doctor countered dryly. "I've called you both in because of a serious occasion."

Symmetra pondered on what it might be. A promotion? That wouldn't explain why Junkrat was here. Were they in trouble? That was preposterous, she wasn't designed for failure. A new assignment? Maybe a call of recognition? A new team member they needed to train? What if it was--

"Simply put, we need you to pretend to be dating."

"What."

"It's for the greater good of our mission."

"What."

Dr. Ziegler straightened her posture, taking on her best I'm-not-paid-to-deal-with-this-bullshit stance. "We've located a Talon base located in a small town in the US. We need a pair of infiltrators to go in and gather intel on the operation, see what you can find about any upcoming missions without garnering any attention. You two were chosen due to your experience with community work. You will be acting as a newlywed couple in Beaufort, South Carolina, but we will leave the rest of your story to the two of you to create. We will have you dispatched by Monday morning and back at headquarters within five months. Does that clarify things?" 

"Aye, Ma'am!" Junkrat chirped gleefully. Symmetra attempted to telepathically scream bloody murder at Mercy. It did not work. 

"Wonderful. Winston and I will be periodically checking in with you over the course of your mission. That is all. You are dismissed." 

Symmetra continued her telepathic screaming.

\-----

Moving in took precisely four hours and twenty-three minutes. Four hours of this could have been avoided if Junkrat had not somehow managed to light the front porch on fire. 

"Oi, Sheila, I'm liking the ring of Mr. and Mrs. Fawkes," the man in question crooned, flopping onto their leather sofa. 

"Don't be ridiculous," she retorted almost too quickly. "You're a wanted criminal, we can't go by _your_ last name. Let us use mine instead. It is much less extravagant."

"Yeah, sure, because Vaswani isn't a huge last name or anything at all. You're one of the world's biggest geniuses, sweetheart!" Symmetra didn't even try to hide her blush at that. "We need a last name that won't set off any suspicion. Something classy, inconspicuous or whatnot."

"What about Smith?" She offered. It was the surname of a few of the men who had worked in Vishkar with her, and always had struck her as...very bland. She let one of them know about this issue once. He was not as pleased with her criticism as she expected. 

"Smith," he said aloud. "I like it. You ain't so bad, Mrs. Smith!" Junkrat winked at her. She rolled her eyes and looked away, cheeks heating up. The simplest of praise and her entire compusure was compromised? This was a weakness she would have to address later.

"So what now?" Junkrat questioned, breaking her from her reverie. 

"Well," she countered, "We get to work."

Setting up an identity was fairly easy. They had met at a college of engineering and fallen deeply in love, and had moved out to Beaufort to pursue their dreams of giving back to the community. It was all wonderfully sappy and if she was being completely honest with herself, Satya Vaswani was Very Much Wishing it were real. Junkrat was effortlessly charming, and each time she looked into those wild eyes she fell a little deeper in love. But it wasn't practical. She convinced herself of this daily, repeating the words like a mantra. It just wasn't practical to get involved with an arsonist, with an anarchist, with a _criminal_. But, that criminal had stolen money _and_ her heart...

Ugh. Sometimes, she managed to repulse herself beyond human comprehension. 

Other aspects of their "relationship" were harder to flesh out. Touching was a thing that Symmetra did not do, period. However, three minutes after having declared this aloud, a very stern phone call from Winston changed her mind for her. Note, this didn't require her to be _good_ at touching. Junkrat, on the other hand, seemed at ease, even dropping on one (admittedly, only) knee to place a kiss to her hand while they stood outside on the slightly burned porch. It stung a bit, to see the comfort with which he carried himself. He probably didn't care at all who he was paired with; it probably didn't leave him breathless when their hands touched or send shivers down his spine when they shared their bed. It hurt to know that in the end, it was just another game for him. So she threw herself into her work. Days became weeks as she'd find excuse after another to avoid her newly deemed husband. In public, she'd stand only as close as absolutely necessary--it pained her to be any nearer. Hand holding was cold and calculated, as were kisses--Gods, how she hated those teasing kisses on the cheek-- which took up fractions of seconds to create. Instead, she focused her time on locating Talon members within the community, distracting herself from her own issues by attacking the issues of the world.

Maybe by avoiding Junkrat, she could avoid these feelings that surrounded him, too. Maybe she could be free and save the world and just be done with it all. Maybe.

\------

"We needa talk." Symmetra jerked her head up in surprise from where she was stooped over a saucepan in the kitchen, finding Junkrat's impassive face staring at the coffee table. 

"On what matters? I assure you, I've been keeping track of the five agents with complete precision." She responded, confused.

"It's not about that," he sighed. "It's...Why are you avoiding me?"

"I-I'm--I am not--"

"You are, Vaswani, and don't even deny it." He sighed once more. "Look, I get it. I'm not exactly your favorite person. I can understand that. I don't like me either. But we got ourselves a mission here, and it's me job to do it right. Can we at least be _pretending_ we like each other? Just for a few months?"

Symmetra nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. He actually thought she hated him. The world was a cruel place sometimes.

\-----

The next morning, Symmetra blinked her eyes sleepily, opening them only to find Junkrat staring back at her from his side of the bed. 

"Fawkes," she deadpanned. "What the fuck."

"Rise and shine, Mrs. Smith," he grinned back. "We're gonna have ourselves a fresh start, commencin' today. A real married life. Ya ready?"

She groaned in begrudging agreement.

"Excellent," Junkrat responded. "Now outta bed, sleepyhead."

Symmetra let herself be prodded out of bed to the restroom, and sleepily picked up her brush as Junkrat did the same. He talked animatedly while she attempted to clean her teeth in peace, spraying toothpaste everywhere and overall making a ridiculously large mess. It was downright endearing. 

"The Fitzgeralds invited us for a bite at their place this afternoon, so dress into somethin' pretty, yeah?" He spat out the last of his toothpaste. "Now shoo, I need to take a shit." She retracted her previous statements--Junkrat was still disgusting. Cute, but disgusting.

The morning went by in a rush, Symmetra cooking breakfast for the two of them and Junkrat reading her the daily report on the outlook of the Talon base for the day. It was all painfully domestic and she felt almost guilty for the pleasure she derived from such little things. Almost. By the time noon had rolled around, she had shoved Junkrat into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower while she dressed for lunch. She was fastening the last hook on her sari when she heard the bathroom door creak open.

Turning around had been a mistake.

Junkrat stood there, towel slung low around his hips, rivulets of water beading themselves and dripping down his abdominal muscles. His tufts of hair lay dripping around his head, and all the soot was clear of his face, showing off his golden eyes in all their intensity. Symmetra could feel herself turning a shade of red people her skin tone shouldn't be able to. Junkrat blushed and muttered a hasty "sorry" before grabbing his clothes and slamming the door shut behind him. She blinked. Then, she sighed. Just a few more months of this, she reminded herself wryly. Enjoy what you can. 

\-----

"Oh, Mr. Smith! So nice to see you! And this must be your lovely wife, oh you look gorgeous, my dear! Come in, come in."

Mrs. Fitzgerald was a plump little woman around the age of 55, but her twinkling eyes gave away the mind of someone much younger. Symmetra stiffened as the woman led her by the hand inside, maintaining all composure to keep from snatching it back. "You absolutely must meet Harold, we've been hearing so much about you from your husband, would you like something to drink? I'll get you something to drink..." The old woman jabbered on ceaselessly, busying herself in the kitchen as she continued to address Symmetra. She thought she could hear Junkrat giggle in the background. She was going to kill him. Eventually. Once this lady stopped handing her a glass of iced tea and prattling on about how Symmetra reminded her of a colleague she once worked with. 

"Oho, Jamison! Come with the missus, I see! Glad to finally meet her!" Satya turned to come face to face with a jovial old man eyeing her appreciatively. "You made a good catch there, son." She didn't know whether to feel affronted or blush. She did both.

"Thanks rightly, Mr. Fitz, but the credit's duly hers," Junkrat cheerily responded. "Now, when's eating time? I'm starved." The aged couple laughed and directed them to the dining table. Symmetra took one look at the meal spread before them and retracted every bad statement she'd ever made about this wonderful couple who had made them _food_. Junkrat began scarfing down a plate right away, and Symmetra felt every inch of her body cringe in disbelief.

"Now, dear," she said slowly, words alien on her tongue, "Let's not eat like savages, hmm?" He gave her a curious look, but slowed down his inhalation of his lunch. She sighed in relief, before meeting eyes with Mrs. Fitzgerald, who was shaking her head and smiling lovingly.

"Young love," the woman murmured, eyes twinkling. Symmetra blushed. She was doing that quite often lately. 

Junkrat looked up from his plate, having overheard the conversation, and grinned. "What can I say?" He asked. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." With that, he leant over and kissed Symmetra on the cheek. "She's smart, got herself a wicked sense of humor, it's her eyes and her smile and her mind I've gone and fallen fool for. It's the way her nose scrunches up when something goes wrong, or the way she sighs real long when I blow something up--"

"What did you say you were again, dear?"

"Er, explosives technician, ma'am."

Symmetra listened on in confusion. These were things she normally did. They had fake histories and fake personalities, why was he listing her true traits? She mused to herself. It was probably easier to recall than to make up ideas on the spot, anyhow. Still, it tugged at her heartstrings as he gushed on about her, doting about her hair and her walk and her talk and her _everything_. 

The rest of the lunch went amicably, finishing up with a key lime pie for dessert and leaving with kind words from both parties. As soon as they stepped through the door of their own home, Symmetra instantly dropped onto the sofa face first, letting out a long groan. Social interaction was quite honestly draining, even if it was in the company of little old people. Her breaths slowed, and she felt herself falling asleep.

"Cheer up, Vaswani, that wasn't too bad. Wait 'til ya meet the Jamesons--they got kids!" Junkrat let out a snicker, before looking over to her and growing quiet. Had she been awake, Symmetra would have noticed as he bent down to place a kiss on the top of her head. "Sweet dreams, Satya."

\------

The next day brought new ventures. While Junkrat did a bit of socializing with the neighbors to glean any information about the inhabitants of the Talon home, Symmetra was to do the upfront field work, tapping the outside of the neighborhood houses with cameras to pick up on any illicit activity. They met at a coffeeshop for a break, discussing what they had gained from their daily missions.

"Apparently," said Junkrat, taking a long sip from his flat white, "It's a couple of college students renting out the house down the street. Mrs. Fitzgerald reckons they're indoors all day thanks to their workload, while Mr. Evans told me it's cause they're out partying all the time. He even goes and tells me he sees 'em bringing home huge cases of beer. I really pray for him sometimes, y'know? Like, beer, really? In crates? Mr. Evans is on some other shi--"

"I found traces of gunpowder outside the house across from the Jameson's home during my scans," Symmetra interrupted. Once on a roll, it was hard to reel Junkrat's train of thought back to normalcy. 

"What, Miss Pauleen's house? Must be a fluke. I checked her out, she's an old hag with a batshit personality and an even worse mental state. She's not a concern," he countered.

Symmetra eyed him warily, taking a small sip of her chai. "Even so, I would like to monitor her. Is that fair, _dear_?" she added on with a flourish, taking note of the people around them. Junkrat let loose a sarcastically sappy grin in response. They finished their drinks in a comfortable silence, speaking no further about the case. Symmetra stood to leave, and Junkrat stood with her. As she stepped past him, however, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close until their faces were inches apart.

"What are you doing?!" She hissed. He jerked his head slightly toward the door, and she followed it to see two of the faces from their mission briefing walk through the door. Before she could react, Junkrat's lips were on hers, his hands shrouding the sides of her face. Symmetra forgot how to breathe for a moment. _It's just for show_ , she reminded herself. Just to hide their faces as the agents walked by and keep up their facsimile of a newlywed couple. Of course. That didn't mean she didn't melt into his touch like a complete weakling, however. His lips were rough and dry, stricken with chapped skin, but they felt magical against hers. Once the men walked past, Junkrat immediately broke the kiss and glanced at her. She felt breathless and dizzy, but she nodded to him in affirmation that she was alright. More than alright, really, but he didn't need to know that.

"I'll see you at home," he told her, voice rough. She nodded dumbly, watching his figure hobble out the door. She sat down in her chair once more, trying to process what had just happened. A part of her assured that it wasn't anything to worry about: just another task for an assignment. That was all.

\-------

"Honey, I'm home!" Junkrat drawled, stepping through the front door of their home. Symmetra looked up from where she'd been perched on the arm of the sofa reading. She took note of the bags in his arms.

"What have you brought home this time?" The last time she had made the mistake of letting Junkrat go shopping for groceries, he'd brought back an entire bag of purely cheese doodles. _Cheese doodles_. 

"A surprise," he responded, setting the bag gingerly on the counter. "Come see."

She put down her novel and cautiously approached the brown paper bag, leaning over to peer inside. There lay a small, battered black rectangular box, with two speakers on its head. Junkrat pulled it out eagerly, a manic grin decorating his face.

"You wouldn't believe the things a bloke can find at the thrift store," he excitedly murmured. "Look, it plays music." He set down the radio on the counter and fiddled with its antenna, pressing a few buttons on the backside. A soft, smooth jazz melody began to flow from the speakers, encompassing the room. He turned to face her, smile still plastered on his face. "Dance with me, Vaswani."

She nearly choked. "What?"

"We need some practicin' on the whole 'closeness' thing anyhow," he countered. "Dance with me." Junkrat offered his prosthetic arm. Symmetra took it with her own. He placed his other hand on her hip as she placed hers on his shoulder (not an easy feat, considering how tall the idiot was), and they began to sway to the tune of a soft saxophone. Symmetra could hear the other humming quietly along with the song. She wondered where he'd heard it before. It was nice, she mused to herself, to be able to be close like this. Her mind wandered into thoughts of what it would be like to be able to do this every night, together, the two of them giving up their cares and simply dancing together, completely in love...she shook her head, blinking back tears. That wasn't her role to play. No, her role was to pretend to be his wife for one more month, and then once everything was well and done, he'd go find himself a real one. Someone he deserved. She bitterly thought about what his bride might look like. Tall and fair, probably. Just as disorganized and chaotic as him. He'd find someone perfect for his needs. And Symmetra? Symmetra would live without him.

And everything would be fine.

\-----

It was a warm Sunday in June when things fell apart. Things had been hectic to begin with that morning, with Symmetra tracking down as much information as she could about Sybil Pauleen while Junkrat spent his time in the basement, working on explosives. Frustrated as result after result popped up empty, she pushed away from the computer, heading downstairs to clear her head. Junkrat seemed to have had the same idea, as he stepped into the living room with a scowl on his face.

"I hate duds," he explained. Symmetra shook her head. Though she would give him credit for being quite competent at building without training, there was no doubt his skills simply weren't at Vishkar training levels. 

"That's not surprising, considering your lack of expertise or real skill. I'm quite sure I could create the bombs in half the time it would take you," she helpfully supplied. But if anything, his scowl grew deeper, and his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Oh? And how's your research project coming along, sweetheart?" He sneered. "I'm sure a pretty little genius like you's been _very_ successful." 

Symmetra felt taken aback. Where was this animosity coming from? She had only offered some insight to the situation. "I was only--"

Junkrat cut her off, clearly not done. "You were only what? Only helping? Listen, sheila, I don't need your bloody help. Fuck if it does any good, anyhow."

"I highly recommend you reconsider your words," she responded, bristling.

"You know what? No. I won't take it back. I bet that just gets you right up and bothered, doesn't it?"

Symmetra didn't respond.

"Yeah?" He continued. "I bet it just rubs you up all the wrong ways how I do things, innit? All mess and soot and chaos. Not something a tightass like you appreciates."

"How dare you, you ungrateful--"

"Grateful for what, exactly, huh? Some frigid bitch who can barely stand to look at me half the time? Some asshole who can't be assed to just once, appreciate what I do? I don't think so, mate."

"You're nothing but a bitter cripple,"she lashed out. Immediately, she wished she could retract those horrible words.

Junkrat's eyes widened in astonishment, then narrowed in pure fury.

"They shoulda left you starving on those streets in your filthy fucking country." As soon as he said it, his hand flew to his mouth. 

Symmetra's heart leapt into her throat. He didn't...he couldn't have meant that. Could he? She steeled herself, trembling. "Fuck you," she whispered, and stormed out the back door.

\-------

She sat quietly in the grass, facing away from the house. Tear tracks stained both cheeks, and every so often a wave of fresh ones would come pouring down again. Satya looked out into the evening sky, taking in the warm reds and purples and blues of the sunset sky. When had she become such an emotional wreck? It was not like her to be so easily swayed by the heart. What happened to having her entire life together? That was the one thing she could do well, and now even that had crumbled apart in her hands. Satya let out a choked sob. Why did she ever agree to something like this? Why did she ever agree to live with the one person who could unravel her resolve in mere seconds? A chorus of "why" resounded in her head as she mulled over her argument with Jamison. She lowered her head in shame at her state and began to cry once more. 

Footsteps sounded in the grass behind her, followed by a soft thump. Symmetra didn't bother looking up. They sat in silence for a while, the only noise supplied by the chirp of crickets and frogs welcoming in the night.

"Sure is a pretty sunset," Junkrat murmured. She pretended not to hear. He let out a deep sigh. "Listen. I'm...I'm right shit for what I said to you back there. I didn't mean a single word of it, and I know you didn't mean what you said either." Satya looked up at him. 

He continued. "You don't deserve half the shit I give you. I know it's hard, being you in a world fulla people like...well, like me. You ain't got any real bad qualities about you, just a couple of quirks, and sometimes they're a little hard to cover for. doesn't mean you aren't a solid person. I was just tired and frustrated, yeah?" She glanced away, embarrassed. "Hey, look at me."

Symmetra turned as Junkrat met her eyes with his own. "You're smart. You're a fuckin' expert at things I can't even begin to pronounce. And takin' you in was probably the best damn move Vishkar coulda ever made. Understand? You're worth a whole lot more than you think you are."

She gave him a watery smile. Junkrat gave her a lopsided one in return, cocking his head slightly. "We all good?"

She nodded. "Yes. We are."

\-------

The next evening, Satya was retiring for the night when Junkrat slammed the door open. "Just got a call from HQ," he reported breathlessly. "You were right in tracking Pauleen. She's been a liaison between Talon and local drug cartels for the past two years here. We just got a tip-off about a deal at the pier, c'mon, we gotta get moving!" Symmetra leaped out of bed and hurried to the closet to change while Junkrat scuttled quickly downstairs. Once ready, they stood outside until a sleek black sedan pulled up. The window rolled down silently.

"Well, get in," ushered a bemused Winston. "We don't have all night."

The ride to the pier was relatively silent, but by the time they reached the scene of action, chaos had already struck. All around them, their teammates were darting back and forth, taking on agents with every ounce of strength they had. Winston clambered out of the front seat and charged into the fray bellowing, leaving Symmetra and Junkrat by the car.

"Split up and take them down?" Junkrat whispered to her.

"Fine by me," she responded, and with that, they took off, weapons in hand and teeth bared.

While Junkrat jumped right into the mess of things, Symmetra started working from the sidelines. She planted hidden turrets on the edges of the pier, and picked off struggling Talon agents with short blasts from her photon projector. Symmetra turned to look for Junkrat, but he was lost in all the carnage around her. Quickly, she worked to the advantage of her teammates around her, creating hard-light shields and double-teaming opposing forces. Suddenly, a voice screeched, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" and the unmistakable sound of a tire screeching came right up behind her. She turned in fear, only to watch as a gang member with his gun poised to shoot her was knocked flat by a speeding rubber circle. She grinned, in spite of the situation. Classic Fawkes. 

The battle continued frenetically, piercing the night air with gunshots and screams. Mercy fluttered around breathlessly in a rigid pattern of healing and fighting. She heard a mighty bellow as Winston knocked men left and right with his fists. Suddenly, a shrill shriek pierced the air. Symmetra froze in horror. She knew that voice.

She turned around to see him standing, hands clutching his stomach, which was quickly turning red. Time slowed down. She watched as his figure crumpled to the floor, as the man behind him let out a chuckle before wiping off his knife, as he gave a solid kick to Junkrat's fallen form...

At that moment, Symmetra felt what pure fury was. 

She shot scattered blasts, mind numb to who they hit, running in the direction of his body. Some agents she beamed with her projector--others she simply wrapped her hand around their neck and squeezed. She barrelled through the forces, reaching Junkrat and his assailant, who gave her a smug grin.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Lost your hubby?"

She saw red.

When her eyes cleared, the agent was on the wood planks of the pier, head roughly a foot from its body. She dropped down by Junkrat's side. The bleeding showed no signs of stopping. "Mercy!" She screamed out, gesturing for the medic. She heard a groan, and quickly turned her attention to the man beneath her. His face was screwed up in pain, and his hands clutched helplessly at the center of his stomach, where a pool of blood was beginning to form. She felt sick. "Junkrat?" She whispered. A faint moan came in response. Tears pricked at her eyes. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. She was not careless enough to let someone get hurt on her watch. She wasn't careless enough to let _him_ get hurt on her watch. "Junkrat?" She tried again. No response. "Fawkes?"

"Jamie?"

\--------

The steady beep of the heart rate monitor kept her awake.

She'd been sitting by his side for the past fourteen hours, waiting for Junkrat to wake up. As soon as the dust had settled, Mercy had come flying over, but it had been too late to do anything but rush to the nearest hospital and hope for the best. He'd lost severe amounts of blood, the doctors had informed them. Symmetra almost broke down there itself, emotional distance be damned. Junkrat, _her_ Junkrat, was hurt, and she hadn't been able to prevent it from happening. She had slipped up. She was a failure. Trembling with horror and exhaustion, she had dropped into the chair by his bedside, and hadn't gotten up since.

A soft movement broke her from drifting off. She looked over to see Junkrat's eyes flutter open, squinting in the glow of the hospital lights. "Jamie?" She murmured, heart in her throat. He turned his head to face her, and flashed her a trademark grin. 

"Why, Mrs. Smith, wasn't aware you even knew my first name." He let out a rough chuckle. "Had a pleasant nap, but what'd I miss?"

Symmetra hung her head. "You were attacked from behind. I'm sorry. I should have kept a closer eye on you." Junkrat quirked a brow.

"You ain't me babysitter, sheila. That's Roadhog. You don't need to feel guilty about not keepin' me in pristine condition, alright?" He looked down at his bandages. "So, I guess this means our mission's at a close? Divorce time?"

Symmetra let out a sad laugh. "Yes, I suppose so." She gave him a wan smile. He didn't return it.

"I guess things go back to normal now, huh. I can go back to buggin' you as usual?" He attempted a grin, but it failed. "We can go back to bein' perfect strangers all over again."

Symmetra stuttered. She was aching to say _please, no, I don't want to leave you_ , but she held her tongue. "That would be correct."

Junkrat let out a wheezy laugh, then stopped, looking up at the ceiling, not meeting her eyes. "What if...what if I'm not so keen on that idea?"

She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What if I'm not okay with us going back to being strangers?"

"I-I'm not quite sure I follow."

"For God's sake, Satya!" He shouted, sitting up and wincing. "Haven't you noticed how moony I am for you?"

She blinked. "Jamison, what the fuck," she deadpanned.

"Every moment we spent pretending to be a thing, I spent every moment wishing it was real!" He continued on. "You mighta felt nothing, but I can't just go on keeping it a secret anymore. I'm absolutely over the moon for you, Vaswani, and these past few months haven't done anything to change that." 

She slapped him. She didn't care if it was bad etiquette to slap a hospital patient, she did it anyways.

"You absolute idiot," she seethed. "Do you _know_ how much internal **bullshit** I have had to go through because I was so scared you didn't feel the same way about me. You complete imbecile. You utter moron. You microscopic _asshole_ , I have fallen for you from the day we first met and you choose to divulge me this information now? I have had it up to _here_ with you, Fawkes, and I am sorely tempted to slap you again for being so impossibly idiotic. I cannot believe you woul--"

He surged forward and kissed her. 

She slapped him again and pushed him back. "Oh no, you do _not_ interrupt me while I am berating you. I am angry, goddammit, and confused and excited and completely scattered yet again because of you. Do you know how much I have gone through while you kept your little crush to yourself? Let me tell you..."

It took a good half hour for Satya Vaswani to calm down enough to realize that the biggest idiot in her life had just confessed to liking her back. It took thirty seconds to kiss him back. It took no time at all to feel her heart sway to the faint melody of a saxophone, swaying in time with the fool she'd gone fool for.

**Author's Note:**

> Not as happy with this, but hey. Find me on tumblr at [ panic-veiledkilljoy](http://panic-veiledkilljoy.tumblr.com/) so we can complain about dumb Overwatch idiots together.


End file.
